Send In The Clowns

Last weekend we made a big push for new volunteers on our First Impressions Team. The goal was 150 new people to step up to serve across six services at our Brier Creek Campus. It was a big goal, and one of the ways we hoped to accomplish it was by passing out an interest card to every single person who attended one of our worship gatherings.

The card was intended to serve as a “tell me more” tool. We told folks that they weren’t committing to anything and that there was no obligation. And by that of course, we meant that we were going to be on their front porch by Sunday afternoon and wouldn’t leave until we’d fitted them for an orange vest and taught them how to park a car.

Anyway, we didn’t get 150 new people…we had nearly 400 who filled out a card and turned it in. Now obviously, not all of those will stick. Previous initiatives prove that. My favorites will be the ones we contact with more info and they’ll say, “I didn’t fill out that card.”

Me: I’m sorry. I was just emailing the address provided.

Them: That’s not me.

Me: So your name isn’t Engelbert Humperdinck?

Them: Nope. Engellbert. Two L’s. You’ve got the wrong guy.

And 400 cards means that I jumped in on the data entry, which means I touched 400 cards. At the height of stomach virus season. And then washed my hands until they bled. And seriously considered throwing away my keyboard.

And my desk.

But I digress. Here’s my point: whenever we do something like this, there’s always the awesome cards that make it into the pile. Cards filled out by people who have no intention of serving, but they don’t want the guy sitting beside them to know that. So they make up fake names or write random things or possibly don’t write anything but just turn in a blank card…huh?

Exhibit A:

I want you to tell all your friends about me.

Exhibit B:

That's funny. Sign me up for my own team.

Exhibit C (my favorite):

At least you're honest.

If you didn’t get a chance to fill out a card but would like the chance to serve (and have us camp out on your doorstep with an orange vest and a measuring tape), hit me up on the “Make Contact” tab above.